Drunken Innocence
by ofb29
Summary: starts with pwf, ends up somewhere totally different, a drunk Sara and a bet along the way
1. i'm sooo not drunk

Drunken Innocence

Disclaimer: Characters aren't my fault. The story, however, is. Sorry

Spoilers: PWF

Authors Note: Definitely not G/S. Maybe a touch of W/S. There might be/should be /will never be more. [Delete as appropriate]

The call caught him between the break room, after getting a much-needed cup of coffee, and the exit door. The end of shift hadn't come soon enough. It had been dead, in the figurative way of speaking, which was good for the citizens of Las Vegas, not so good for him and Nick. They'd had nothing to do all shift except watch the workman rebuilding the blown up lab, and talk about the explosion, watching the clock for every torturous minute till seven am and they could legitimately leave. Everyone knew by now that Catherine had confessed, and taken the full rap for, for the explosion, which had been caused by some hokey potion that they had collected from a crime scene and a near by hot plate.

He checked the caller id as he took the phone from his pocket, surprised to see Sara highlighted. What was she doing calling him? Did the girl not know the meaning of the words night off? He flipped open the lid as he brought the phone to his ear, hearing strains of what sounded suspiciously like YMCA.

Before he even had a chance to speak a greeting, Sara began to talk. 'I just wanted to let you know something.' She started. She didn't sound like Sara, and Warrick quickly realised that Sara was drunk. Very drunk if he had to guess. He was about to speak when Sara carried on, not giving him the chance. 'I just wanted to explain what this is. Or isn't.' Warrick was getting confused, but couldn't keep the smile off his face at her voice. Her words, in a bid to probably not sound drunk, were spoke with such concentration they sounded false.

'You see, Grissom, you made a mistake.' The smile dropped slowly from Warrick's face as he heard their supervisor's name mentioned. He again tried to interrupt but Sara was in her stride and talked right over him, ploughing right on, forcing Warrick into silence and the not so pleasant task of listening. 'You assumed. After all your lectures about assuming, and you did it.'

Warrick should probably have tried harder to tell Sara that he wasn't whom she thought she was talking to. But whatever Sara had used the alcohol to get the courage to say aloud to Grissom was, she was going to say it that much was obvious. He probably should have hung up instead, but a small part of him was mildly curious, okay, a lot curious, and he couldn't stop listening.

'You assumed I was asking you out on a _date_. Well I wasn't. I was asking you out to _dinner._ There's a difference. And yes I wanted to talk to you, to talk about _this_, but not the _this_ you assumed it to be. You see I might have had a small crush on you when I was at college but I got over that a long time ago. It wasn't like you gave me much choice.'

Warrick gulped. This was getting into way too personal stuff for him. But as a small part of him was cringing, he carried on listening, unable to stop.

'Anyway. As I said, I got past it, I moved on. I wanted to talk to you about the blast. About how I can't walk past the lab without seeing the explosion again. But oh no, you couldn't even come out to dinner with me. Well ugh.' One of Warrick's eyebrows raised in amusement at the noise Sara made over the phone. 'You see, I've been thinking. Maybe I should leave. Not like I have anything keeping me at the lab, is it? Not like you'd care.'

'Uh Sara?' Warrick finally said.

There was silence over the phone. Then a giggle. He imagined that she'd finally looked at the display and seen exactly who she was talking to. 'Warrick.' She stated simply.

'Yeah, Sara. I think you dialled wrong.' He said, stating the obvious.

'Guess I did.' She said.

'Where are you, Sara?' He asked, knowing that there were more than a few bars still open at this time of night. Or morning, he corrected himself.

'Why would I tell you that?' She slurred. Now that she was no longer deluded she was speaking to Grissom she had dropped the pretences.

'Because I think you might want a lift home.' Warrick told her.

She giggled. 'And you're gonna come and rescue me? I'm a big girl, Warrick, I can look after myself.'

'I don't doubt that. Maybe I just wanted to get a drink now that shifts finished.' He said.

'Oh.' Sara said, in her inebriated state believing the obvious lie. 'I don't know the name. Does great drinks though. The glasses are all cold.' Her voice had taken on a girly singsong quality now.

Warrick frowned, trying to remember who froze their serving glasses and who'd still be open at this time. The only place he could think of was The Valentine, but it was so sleazy, he couldn't imagine Sara going there.

'It's not all decorated in red, is it Sara?'

'Um…lot's of red. Very pretty. Nice colour.' 

The smile returned to Warrick's face as he shook his head. 'You're at The Valentine. I'll meet you there in ten. Save me a drink, ok?'

'Sure. A drink. Don't know if I'll make it to the bar again though…' She trailed off, and Warrick waited. 'Maybe if I used the stools.' She added thoughtfully.

'You stay still, I'll get the next round in, ok?'

'What about, um…' He could almost hear her brain trying to think through the alcohol.  'Nick!' She finally said triumphantly. 'What. About. Nick?' She asked, speaking in that deliberate tone again.

'He left already. But I'll bet he's not gonna be happy he missed this.'

'Me. All drunk.' Sara supplied for him.

'Yep, that was what I was thinking. See you in ten, Sidle.' He snapped the phone, having to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all, still with a smile on his face as he got to his car and started it up.

The Valentine, like a lot of places on the strip never closed it's doors. It was a sixty bedroom hotel, advertising cable tv and rooms by the hour. It was on the lower end of the strip, away from the big attractions, but getting a patronage nevertheless. The sign outside had a big bleeding heart cut through with an arrow, the name written in flashy pink neon lights. Warrick parked in the hotel car park, not seeing Sara's car anywhere near, which made him wonder how she'd got here.

He stepped into the dimness of the bar, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark after the bright sunlight outside. He looked all around, finally spotting Sara sat at a booth in the far corner, glasses stacked in front of her testament to what she'd been doing all night. Warrick was quietly impressed as he wandered through the nearly deserted bar. There were a lot of glasses on the table, and Sara was still sitting upright.

She jumped up when she saw him, a big smile on her face. 'Warrick, you came!' Warrick grinned at the overly excited behaviour from the usually demure science whiz, surprised when she grabbed him in a big hug. 'Take a seat. Order a drink. The bartender's real nice.' She told him.

Warrick looked over at the bartender who wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was watching Sara in the overhead mirror. Any other time and Warrick knew Sara would be shouting about being the object of such lecherous actions. Now, Sara was too drunk to care.

Warrick held up his hand. 'Two OJs' He told the bartender, adding in a hard stare for effect that had him scuttling to the other end of the bar as if a fire had been lit under his butt.

'OJ?' Sara asked, sounding disgusted at such an innocent choice. Warrick ignored her, studying her as if she was a piece of evidence presented to him instead. He quickly decided that this had been a long night for Sara. Her shirt was held together by two buttons, revealing more than a little of the bra she wore. Her hair was pulled back in a rough ponytail, clumps of hair that had made bids for freedom roughly shoved behind her ears. Eyes that were looking at him had only a soft focus to them, and Warrick wondered how many of him she was seeing. It was so different to the normally composed girl Warrick was used to. The cuts on her face, the bandaged hand the signs of the blast.

'What?' Sara finally snapped, shifting under the look.

'Think it's time to go home?' He asked.

'No. It's too early.'

'It's seven. AM.' Warrick emphasised

Sara waved a dismissive hand. '_way_ too early.'

'One more drink.' He saw her eyes light up. 'Of OJ.' He added. 'Then I'll drive you home.'

'I've got my car.' Sara told him, wide eyed and innocent.

'You're also about twenty times over the limit.' Warrick reminded her. 'And I didn't see your car outside.' He added.

Her brow furrowed as she thought about this. 'It's not parked out front?' She asked.

'No.' But he could take a fair guess that if she had parked it out front, it had been towed long ago. Probably better not to go into that now. She probably wouldn't remember the conversation anyway. 'We'll get it tomorrow.' He told her.

'Yeah. Tomorrow.' She echoed.

The bartender came up, flashing Sara a grin that revealed several gaps in his teeth. Warrick cleared his throat, and did the glaring thing, and the two drinks were placed not so carefully on the table and the man stalked away.

Sara turned fiery eyes on him. 'He was just being nice!'

Warrick laughed. 'He was making eyes at you. As he probably has done all night.'

Sara looked over at the bartender, squinting slightly. 'He was still being nice.' She said defensively.

Warrick shrugged, knowing that he wasn't going to win an argument like this with her. Not in her state, anyway. And if she wasn't in this state, she probably would have slapped the guy herself, so…it was all a bit pointless anyway.

Sara picked up a pack of cigarettes Warrick hadn't noticed lying on the table in between all the glasses. The ashtray was full of butts. The bartender was obviously more concerned with eyeing up the patrons rather than doing his job. Sara offered out the packet to him, and he shook his head, watching as she slid a cigarette out and tried to light it with none too steady hands. 'You know, those things will kill you?' Warrick said, leaning forward to take the lighter off her before she could set light to her clothing or hair or something.

'So what?' She challenged, leaning forward, taking a deep breath as Warrick lit the cigarette for her.

'I never knew you smoked.' He said instead of answering her question.

Sara blew out a mouthful of smoke, aiming it up towards the ceiling, and regarded him. 'There's a lot of things you don't know about me.' For the first time, Sara sounded almost sober, and as she looked at him with piercing eyes, he started feeling uncomfortable.

'Ain't that the truth…' He murmured. He never pictured her as someone who would get pissed on an all out bender for starters.

'Why are you here, Warrick?' She asked, in an almost accusing tone.

'You called me, remember?'

Despite the almost normal sounding voice, it still took Sara a while to remember this. She screwed up her face in thought. 'I did?'

'Yes, you did.'

'Why would I call you?' She asked, causing just a tinge of hurt to ride up in him.

He brushed it briskly away. 'You tell me.' He said instead with a shrug.

She looked down at her phone, even picking it up, regarding it carefully, as if the blue plastic cover held the answer. She finally put the phone down and shrugged. 'I was just gonna go home.' She said, downing the OJ in one and getting to her feet.

Warrick jumped up as Sara immediately began to sway, looking like she was heading to the floor the quick way. He wedged an arm around her waist, managing just to keep her on her feet.

He looked over at the bartender. 'What do I owe you?' He asked.

'Fifty eight dollars.' The bartender told him after a quick look at a piece of paper on the bar.

Warrick baulked. '58 bucks?'

'That's what I said.'

He looked down at the brunette clamped to his side, most of who's weight he was currently holding upright, and looked back at the bartender. With his free hand he pulled out his wallet, manoeuvring with difficulty to get three twenties out without letting Sara do what gravity wanted her to do.

He dumped the lot on the table, glared at the bartender for good measure, before trying to walk Sara out.

Now that she was standing, all pretences at even being slightly sober were all lost. She couldn't walk, that much was obvious. She could barely move a foot. Half carrying her, half cajoling her, he finally got her outside and to his car. He lent her against it so that he could search for his keys, but she immediately started to slide sideways, straight backed, and would have just fallen straight over if Warrick hadn't caught her, holding her clamped to the car firmly with one hand as he finally located his keys.

Getting her sitting in the passenger seat took a full minute, because Sara had for some inexplicable reason erupted into fits of giggles and was totally uncooperative. He was getting ever so slightly annoyed, and was beginning to wish he hadn't felt the need to come and rescue her and had gone home to bed instead. He finally managed to get her sitting in the seat, belt on, Sara quiet now, although still with a secret smile on her face.

He regarded her for a moment. 'Are you going to puke?' he asked. 'Because if you are, I want you to tell me now, so I can get you out, rather than somewhere on the road where I can't stop.' Warrick said, leaning against the door jam as he watched her think.

It took a while, but finally she slowly shook her head. 'I'm not gonna puke.' She told him.

'Good.' He slammed the door, and walked round to his side of the car.

Conversations with a drunk Sara were certainly entertaining, if not much sense. She'd started the car journey by insisting on playing I Spy. Then it was the Beetle game where she smacked him, amazingly hard for someone that couldn't walk, on the arm whenever a beetle drive past. Or any car, really, as Sara didn't seem to be able to distinguish types in her current state. Then Sara told him, in a conspiratorial whisper, that she thought Greg had a crush on her. And that Hank was a bastard. And she'd heard he'd broken a finger slamming it into a door, and didn't feel at all sorry for him. He soon discovered that Sara's language use became a lot more colourful when under the influence of alcohol. He was discovering a lot about her this morning.

He pulled up outside his house and killed the engine, just as Sara finished telling him that she really thought she was a little drunk.

'Really?' Warrick asked amused as he stepped out of the car and walked round to help Sara out.

She looked at him as he opened the door, having made no effort to even move to take off her belt. She squinted up at the house in front of her. 'That's not my apartment.' She stated the obvious.

'I know.' He said, leaning across her to free her seat belt.

He heard her giggle as he inadvertently brushed against her. 'I like your arms Warrick.' She told him in what he could only think of as a girly flirtatious tone as he straightened up.

'Thanks.' He said dryly.

'Do you work out a lot?' She asked, the tone still there, studying him so that goose bumps appeared on his arm. Again her look was less drunk, more deadly serious.

'Only when I have to.' He joked. 'Think you can walk?'

Any thoughts that she was sobering up left as she deftly nodded, tried to swing her legs around, caught them on the frame and lurched dangerously forward.

Warrick caught her by the shoulders, sitting her back up. 'Oops.' She giggled. 'The car moved.'

'Uh huh.' He said, deciding there was only one-way he was gonna get her into the house before night fall. Not telling her the plan, he picked her up in his arms, closing the door with his foot.

She looked up at him, a wide-eyed look of innocence. 'Why are we at your house?' She asked.

'Because I don't think I should leave you alone in this state.' Warrick told her.

'Why not? Doesn't usually make a difference.' Sara told him.

Warrick shrugged with difficulty. 'Don't want you asphyxiating on your own vomit or something.'

'I don't get sick.' Sara told him.

'Yeah right.' He said.

'I don't.' She protested. 'Get a killer hangover, but don't get sick.' She was silent for a moment then asked 'Am I drunk, Warrick?'

'Very.' He told her.

'Think I'll get a hang over?' She asked, snuggling slightly into his arms.

'It seems likely.'

'That's probably not good.' She told him.

Getting the front door open was no mean feat, and he carried her through to the guest room. 'Warrick, can I ask you something?' She asked as he sat her on the bed.

'Sure.' He told her, standing over her and watching that she didn't fall off the bed.

'Do you like me?'

Warrick raised an eyebrow at the question. 'Of course I like you.' He told her.

She shuffled back slightly, or that was what she was trying to do. Warrick caught her as she lurched sideways, sitting her up straight again. 'Sometimes, I don't think you do.' She told him, the serious tone back, even if she was swaying as she said it.

'Why would you think that?' He asked, wondering if he wanted to pursue this with her now, with her in this state.

'Because Grissom brought me to the lab to investigate you.' She told him.

'He brought you in to investigate Holly's death.' Warrick corrected.

Sara waved away the difference, causing Warrick to quickly grab her again as a sway took her dangerously close to a nose dive off the bed. He sat down beside her, deciding it would be safer to hold her steady.

'But then,' She carried on, as if she'd already started the sentence. 'Grissom made me investigate you again.' The infliction she gave to Grissom's name then, made him think back to the earlier conversation.

'You did what you had to do.' He said. 'It was a long time ago. We've moved on.'

'Have we? Sometimes I never think I'll fit in at the lab.'

'You fit in now.'

'No I don't. Catherine doesn't think I'm a good CSI. You don't like me because I investigated you, and Nick just…' She trailed off. 'Well I can't think what Nick does, but Nick doesn't count because he's too nice to everyone.'

Warrick chuckled a bit at that. Talk about a drunk stating the truth about things. Some things anyway.

'And Grissom. Ah Grissom. Bastard.' She muttered with venom.

Warrick got that uncomfortable feeling again.

'Do you know we kissed one time?' She suddenly asked.

Warrick swung his head round so fast he almost got whiplash. 'You kissed Grissom?'

'Yeah. It was years back. When I was in college. We got talking one night, all night. And as he went to go we just kissed.'

Warrick had guessed there was history, but he hadn't guessed it was this.

'Would have gone further if my room mate hadn't walked in.' She added.

Warrick wondered why she was telling him all this, why it was on her mind, feeling uncomfortable with the knowledge.

'He came round the next day. Said that as I was a student, and he was the professor, we couldn't see each other again. I told him he was a lousy kisser and who said I wanted to do it again anyway.'

Warrick grinned despite of himself.

'We hooked up again sometime later, at a convention, but he never mentioned it, always ignored it. That really got to me. Like I wasn't mature enough to have an adult conversation about that part of our lives. It wasn't like I still had a crush on him. Twenty pints of ice cream and double that of tequila in two days saw to that.' Warrick saw a soft, sad smile on her face, and he could imagine her working through the pain, like it was scientific program of getting over loss, of grieving.

'What was that dinner date about then?' Warrick finally asked, unable to stop himself.

'It. Wasn't. A. Date.' She said angrily, trying to whirl on him and failing miserably. After he'd sat her back up, he asked what it was then. 'Dinner. We're meant to be friends after all. I was having a rough time.'

'Was?'

'Was.' She said firmly.

'And the state you're in now has nothing to do with that?'

'None whatsoever.' She said just as firmly looking at him with huge hurting eyes.

'Sara, you can talk to me, you know.' He said softly. 'About whatever.'

'Why does he do that? Why, when we're meant to be friends does he do that? Treat me like I'm not even an associate much less a friend.'

'I don't know.' Warrick answered seriously.

She looked at him, the hurt still there.

'What did you mean when you said that you see the blast every time you walk past the lab?' Warrick asked.

Sara looked at him in confusion, and Warrick realised she probably didn't actually remember the conversation she'd had with him.

'It's what you said on the phone.' He added for her benefit.

'Nothing. Absolutely nothing.' She told him firmly. 

For a while they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the distance ticking of a clock. 'I'm gonna go to bed now.' Sara said, falling straight back across the bed.

'You might wanna change first.' Warrick told her. 'I think you got alcohol down your top-it's all wet.' He got to his feet, walking to the door. 'I'll get you something to wear.' He said over his shoulder.

He walked back in, just as Sara was fiddling with the back of her bra top, blouse and trousers already in a heap on the floor. Warrick gulped, quickly turning around, although Sara had lost all inhibitions after so many drinks. 'Hey Warrick- I can't get this thing undone.' She whined, sounding like a five year old.

'Um…maybe you should just leave it on then.' He said, shifting from foot to foot, feeling the heat at his face.

'Don't like sleeping in them.' She said matter-of-factly. 'Please, Warrick.' She whined. 'Please. I don't like it. Please undo it.' He heard a rip, as what suspiciously sounded like tears came to Sara's voice.

He turned round, keeping his eyes fixed on her face, seeing real tears a sheen to her eyes. 'Ok, ok.' He placated her, not wanting to get her more emotional.

She sat still as he walked round, reaching out with trembling hands to snap open the bra. Warrick saw that in her desperation to get it off, she'd ripped the material around the clasp. He let it fall away. She went to turn around to thank him, so Warrick quickly shoved the old t-shirt he'd found for her to wear at her, and walked quickly for the door, hearing something sounding suspiciously like a giggle from behind him, followed by a loud thump as something heavy hit the floor, followed by a groan.

Reluctantly looking round, Warrick found Sara, mercifully with the t-shirt on, sprawled on the floor, looking somewhat uncertain as to what had happened.

He helped her up, getting her back on the bed, getting the sheets down so that she could get into the bed.

'Goodnight Sara.' He said, smoothing back curls from her face. Her eyes were already closed, and he smiled at the picture of innocence she was now.

'Night Warr.' She mumbled, turning over onto her front. 

Warrick watched, standing over her, till her breathing settled into a regular pattern and he knew that she was a sleep.

The day had certainly started out different to most others. He realised how tired he was himself, and after watching her for a few moments more, a soft smile lighting his face, he left his sleeping beauty alcoholic to it.


	2. honestly, i'm not

Silence filled the room. For which she was grateful. Because her head felt about ten times too big for her body. Someone had poured cement in her skull, probably through her ear, making lifting it off the pillow where it was currently residing an impossible task. Not that she wanted to move it anywhere. Way too much pain involved. Every little thing, like breathing was taking an effort unsurpassed before. Every little thought sent shooting pain through her head, like the neurons were protesting any sort of activation. Not that Sara could blame them. She had probably killed off enough of them last night.

She was assuming it was last night of course. One good thing about alcohol? She never remembered the night. One bad thing about alcohol? She could never remember the night.

She wasn't sure how long she had been lying there awake. She hadn't yet worked up enough working nerve points to open her eyes. She was pretty sure someone had superglued them closed, after filling them with sand. Her mouth was a different story altogether. Someone had left a decomp in there to rot. That was the only explanation for the disgusting taste and fur currently growing on her teeth.

She was in a bad way. And that was only her head. She hadn't dared try and move any of her limbs yet.

Somewhere behind her and to the left she heard someone clear their throat. Oh God! She had brought someone home! Oh man! Or a man. She froze on the bed. Which would have been visible if she had been moving at all. Someone was stood behind her, probably had all his memories from last night in tact. What on earth had she done?

Why did she do this to herself?

'I know you're awake.'

No, no I'm not, I'm asleep, look at me with my eyes closed. Asleep. Very asleep. Now leave me alone to work out what happened last night, and to try and work out how to move a muscle. Any muscle. Because they all seem to have the same idea of not moving at the moment.

'Sara.'

Sara managed to move some muscles in her face as she frowned at her name being said. She recognised that voice. She knew that voice. Heard it all the time. WARRICK?!

She had brought WARRICK home with her? Home with her. He was here. Watching her sleep. What had she done? What had he done? What the hell was she going to do?

Then she heard another sound. He hadn't just laugh at her had he? He seriously hadn't just laugh at her. She couldn't have been that bad could she? What did it matter? She had brought Warrick home with her and she couldn't even remember what she had done.

Wait… Wait… Wait. With much difficulty, Sara reigned in her thoughts. Something wasn't right about this picture. Something was off. She sniffed gently. That didn't smell like her bed sheets. Okay, the alcohol and cigarettes smelled like her, but the washing liquid scent wasn't the one she used.

Well, that just means he brought you back to his rather than you taking him home. You still slept with him She silently lamented herself.

'Sara, you're gonna have to open your eyes at some point.' Warrick said, amusement in his voice.

That was easy for him to say. He didn't have sand superglued to the lids. 

'Come on Sara. I've got coffee.' He enticed

'Ugh.' She managed to say.

'That's your response, Sidle? Ugh?'

'Ugh.' She repeated. Now if she could just get enough working neurones together to move she could slip quietly from the bed, walk out the front door, and escape from what had to be a nightmare. Right? This time she groaned aloud and buried her head in the pillow, making the man stood at the doorway laugh again.

'Come on, it's not gonna get any easier.' He coaxed her.

She turned her head back so she didn't suffocate on the pillow and with great effort finally spoke. Her voice sounded like she had a little more than one cigarette last night, along with more booze than she wished to think about.

'Get lost.'

Another laugh. If he didn't stop that annoying sound soon he'd find out how painful it was to…well have something very painful happen to him, the likes of which she couldn't quite think of in her current state.

Now, what was her plan again? Oh yeah, deftly slide out of bed, out of the front door, taking what was left of her dignity with her. Ok, maybe she'd settle for just getting out of bed and through the front door, dignity be damned. She just wanted to go home to her own bed.

She decided that slow wasn't going to work, slow would just seize up and not happen. Nope it had to be one big movement out of bed.

Warrick watched, unable to stop the laughter as Sara rolled over, right out of the big double bed.

He soon stopped as Sara finally forced her eyes open to glare at him. 'Very funny' She snapped at him, although made no attempt to get up from the floor.

'Sorry. But that was very graceful.' He said. He stepped forward, offering out a hand.

She looked at it like it might bite, before reluctantly taking hold of it.

'Perhaps you should sit down.' He suggested once she was standing. She gave him a look. Then swayed violently as the ground dipped to the left and decided to take heed of his advice, sinking down into the bed.

'So.' He said, standing there, arms crossed against his chest, looking down at her.

'So.' She repeated, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. She was desperately trying to remember something, anything that would tell her why she was in this current arrangement. And, perhaps more importantly, what she'd done in this current arrangement.

He chuckled slightly. 'You don't remember, do you?' He asked, sounding rhetorical in his questioning.

He had clothes on. He was fully dressed.

She had on…a t-shirt that was about five times too big.

She shook her head anyway.

He chuckled again.

She decided she didn't mind that sound nearly as much as his laughter. Mainly because this was warm, welcoming, the laughter had sounded too much like it was aimed at her. Which it had been…

'So.' She repeated, for good measure.

She looked up at him again, seeing he was waiting for her to say something more. She sighed this time. Then glared at him. Then chuckled lightly. 'You're gonna make me ask, aren't you?'

He simply nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

'Well, I have the mother of all hangovers.' She started. 'So I guess I went out drinking after shift.'

He nodded again, enjoying this.

She sighed again, wanting to lie down and go back to sleep and have her head back to normal size and without the pain, and preferably wake up lying in her own bed with only her stuffed gorilla for company.

'And I came to be in your bed…how?' She finally said aloud.

'You're not in my bed.' Warrick answered cryptically, still with that annoying little smile on his face.

Sara looked like she was quickly losing patience with this game, so Warrick answered the question before she asked it. 'You're in the guest room.'

'Oh.' Sara managed, looking around. Thank God She added silently. 'So we never…I mean I never…I mean…'

Warrick saved the stuttering. 'You were way too pissed to do much but collapse on the bed.' Warrick told her.

Sara breathed a sigh of relief. Now that that issue was out of the way, she was still wondering how exactly she had come to be in his bed, albeit in his guest bed.

'You called me.' Warrick answered her silence.

'I called you?' Sara wondered aloud.

'By accident, this morning. You were trying to reach someone else.'

'And what, you decided to come rescue me?'

It was Warrick's turn to look uncomfortable. He shifted onto his other foot. 'Yeah.'

For a moment there was silence. 'Thank you.' She said quietly, not looking up at him.

'Don't mention it.' He said.

'About that coffee…'

'Coming right up.'

Once Warrick had exited the room, Sara took a careful look around the room. Double bed with hand quilted comforter, pine wardrobe, magnolia walls, flowery curtains. She came to the conclusion that Warrick hadn't done anything to the room since moving in. Unless she really did know nothing about him.

Something was missing. She took another look around before realising what it was. Where were her clothes? Why weren't they in the room? More importantly perhaps, how had they come off? Her pants and skinny T. and her bra, she realised with a gulp.

She groaned as her head pounded with having to do anything, let alone try and remember anything of last night. Now would have been the perfect time to try and sneak out, but getting arrested for exposure on the streets possibly wasn't a good move.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the best smell someone with a hangover her size could smell- fresh coffee, wafting somewhere near-by. She closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh aroma, feeling the pounding in her head ease slightly in anticipation of the hot beverage.

Finally the door opened and Warrick peered round the door. He had to smile at the expression on Sara's face. He carefully placed the mug down on the side, and put the pile of clothing he had been carrying down beside her on the bed.

'My clothes…' Sara finally worked out. She narrowed her eyes up at him, which made him take a few steps back, holding his hands up as if to ward her off.

'I just washed them.' He said quickly.

She looked down at the freshly laundered clothing. 'Oh. Thanks.' She said, feeling a red blush climb up her cheeks.

'You stripped them off yourself.' Warrick told her helpfully.

The red blush crept into full scale scarlet.

'Although you had a little trouble with your bra…' He added helpfully.

For someone who looked amazingly like a cadaver, Sara could certainly move fast- Warrick didn't see the pillow till it was wrapped round the side of his head.

He darted across the room, to the safety of the door, confident in the fact that while she might be able to wield a pillow, her legs wouldn't be able to carry her that far yet.

'Get out!' She told him, although the small tug at the side of her mouth was testament to the fact that she was almost laughing.

The warm chuckle from Warrick followed him out of the door. 'Bathrooms across the hall. Towels and whatever are in there.' He called back to her as he walked down the corridor, still chuckling.

Sara shook her head, falling back into the comfort of the sheet on the bed. Only she could manage to do these things and not remember how. She sniffed, getting the smell of coffee, opening her eyes to wonder if she had the energy left to make it to the bed stand.

Work tonight was certainly going to be an experience. Just as she started moving towards the coffee, a new thought struck her. If she'd managed to call Warrick, who else had she had a conversation with last night that she didn't remember?

It was half an hour, at least, before Warrick heard the shower go on. It was another half hour before it was shut off again, making him wonder if there'd be any hot water left.

He finished the newspaper he had been reading, well, looking at the sports pages of anyway, and tucked it into a neat pile in the corner of the living room.

It was getting on in the afternoon, long shadows beginning to fill the room. They were both meant to be going to work later that night, but they had a few hours before they had to face that hurdle. He wondered how many court cases he could trade with Sara for keeping the facts about her debacle secret.

'What are you smiling about?' A voice accused from the doorway.

He looked up at Sara, surprised to find her wearing not only her clothes but his college shirt. It was about ten sizes too big for her. 'Hope this is ok.' She said, catching him looking. 'Found it in the wardrobe. I was cold.'

'It's fine.' He said.

Her hair hung in limp strands round her face, dark shadows under her eyes. However hot the shower had been, she still looked pale, and slightly green. He wondered how she hadn't puked yet. But she looked a little better for the shower.

She collapsed in the seat next to him. 'Remind me to never drink again. Ever.' She said, eyes closed, head resting against the back of the sofa.

He had to laugh at that. 'You were already to carry on this morning.' He told her.

She cracked open one eye to look at him. 'So, Warrick, what other embarrassing things that I have totally no recall of did I get up to?' She asked.

'What's it worth?' he challenged.

'My not killing you…' Sara challenged back.

Warrick had to laugh.

'Come on, you're not playing fair.' She said, sounding awfully close to whining. He wondered how much of the alcohol hadn't worked its way out of her system yet.

'I called you.' She prompted. 'Trying to get hold of someone else. Who?'

'Grissom.'

The name made her physically wince, as yesterday's conversation came flooding back to her. 'Oh no.' She moaned quietly.

Warrick was watching the reaction carefully, intrigued.

'Uh, so what did I want to speak to…uh…Grissom about?' Sara finally asked, although she knew damn well what she had phoned Grissom about. It was what the start of the drinking had been all about in the first place.

'I think you know.' Warrick said, saving her the embarrassment of having it said aloud.

'Look, Warrick, I'm sorry I got you involved in my mess. I really am.' Sara said sincerely, prising herself away from the sofa to regard him properly. 'Thank you.'

'That's ok.' He said, putting an arm around her as she rested her head against his shoulder. He settled back against the sofa, still with an arm around her. 'Now, about this kiss you had with Grissom…' He started

She whirled around so quickly on him that he wondered if she'd have whiplash. 'I…what?'

'Oh I know all your secrets now, Sidle.' He said, a smile on his lips as he pulled her back down before she fell off the sofa. She reluctantly settled back on the chair, head on his shoulder, again wondering why she ever, ever, touched the demon drink. 'We'll talk payment later. Especially if you want me to keep it secret from Nick.' He added. He began chuckling as she just buried her head in his chest and groaned heartily. She murmured something that sounded like 'Just kill me now.'

'What would the fun in that be?' Warrick asked seriously, wondering about all the wicked ways that this was going to be so much fun.

Sara could almost feel the evil smile lighting up his face. She groaned again for good measure.


	3. okay, maybe a little

Drunken Innocence

Sorry to keep up with this story, but it keeps going on in my head!

'Come on Sidle! You're gonna make both of us late!' He yelled through the house.

The only response he got was silence.

'If you've gone asleep again, I'm gonna pour freezing cold water over you to wake you up.' He warned as he started walking towards the back of the house.

'I'm coming, I'm coming.' Sara said, hopping out of the guest bedroom door, trying unsuccessfully to pull on her second boot. 'And do you have to yell? I'm five feet away.' She muttered, as she finally rammed her foot into the boot, and triumphantly did up the zip.

'You're the one who wants to go looking for your car.' Warrick helpfully reminded her. He was leaning against the doorframe into the kitchen, watching her with an amused smirk on his face.

Sara narrowed her eyes at him, but held her tongue. He could just as well have made her take the bus back to the strip to go car hunting.

'Although, seeing as it's probably been towed, I don't know why we're going looking.' He told her.

Sara sighed. 'It might not have done.' She tried, but even she wasn't that hopeful.

'It would help if you could remember where you parked it.' Warrick said for about the forth time.

Sara didn't bother answering with words. Why speak when a glare can say just as much?

'I mean,' he carried on, ignoring the look, 'fancy forgetting where you parked your car. I never saw you as the person to forget something like this. Then again, I learnt a lot of new things about you last night.'

Sara responded with a stiff middle finger.

Warrick laughed. 'Oh, another new trick.' He said.

'Keep it up, Brown,' Sara growled at him in warning.

'And you'll do what?' Warrick asked. He shook his head. 'You're forgetting who's holding all the cards in this, Sidle. Now if you want your secrets to stay secret, I'd start by being nice to me.'

Sara only just about managed to bite her tongue, knowing that he was right, he did know an awful lot that wouldn't be good to be spread around the whole lab.

'You wouldn't.' She challenged instead.

'Oh, wouldn't I?' He challenged right back, a satisfied smile on his face. 'Now are you ready yet? We should have been leaving half an hour ago.'

'Well if you'd have woken me up, we would have been going half an hour ago.'

'Ah, but you looked so cute with your hair sticking up and just that little pool of saliva collecting at the corner of your mouth.' Warrick told her, his grin hidden from her as he led her out of the house.

Although he did feel the heat of her glare on his back as she followed him out.

'It was rude enough that you fell asleep in the middle of our conversation. But now I'm getting blamed for not waking you up?' Warrick shook his head mournfully. 'That's low.'

'All you had to do was poke me or something.' Sara muttered, mostly to herself. 'But oh no, it's bad enough you saw me when I was slaughtered, now you've seen me fast asleep as well.'

'And with bed head.' Warrick reminded her. 'I'm finding it hard to decide which was funnier.'

'You're a bad bad man, Warrick Brown.' Sara told him.

'And it's so fun.'

'Just one more time.' Sara pleaded.

'We've done the whole strip and back again.' Warrick said. 'It's not here.'

'It might be. There are a lot of cars. We might have just missed it.' Sara said hopefully.

'It's not here. It was probably towed last night. And we're gonna be late for work.'

Sara glanced at the clock on the dash, seeing he was right. She sighed, kneading her head trying to get the throbbing to stop and to try and remember what she did with her car last night.

She eventually sighed again, stopping with the thinking because it was making her headache ten times worse, and just accepting the inevitable that she wasn't going to find her car miraculously parked at the side of the road.

'So we can go to work now?' Warrick asked, glancing at her.

'Yes.' She snapped.

Warrick laughed. 'You know, you get in a really bad mood when you've been drinking.' He told her in a conversational tone as he made an illegal u-turn and dived down a side road.

'Warrick!' Sara exclaimed. 'Are you trying to kill us?' She asked as the sound of car horns followed them.

'Hey, this is all your fault.' He reminded her.

Sara didn't exactly have a come back to that. So decided for once to do the right thing, and keep quiet. As Warrick bombed his way through a confusing maze of back roads taking them to CSI HQ, Sara found her eyelids growing heavy, sleep wanting to take her over. She fought it for a moment, before giving up, closing her eyes.

She jumped a mile as someone poked her in the side. 'No sleeping.' Warrick told her firmly.

'We're not even there yet.' Sara said grumpily.

'No sleeping. It'll just make you feel worse.' Warrick repeated.

'I just want ten minutes shut eye.'

'You're not drooling all over my car. I just got it cleaned.'

She grumbled something to herself that sounded awfully close to a bad word but rubbed hard at her eyes, trying to encourage them to stay open. 'This is going to be a long night.' She muttered, mostly to herself.

Warrick looked over at her in sympathy. 'You could just call in sick.' He told her.

'I know. But I hate calling in sick.' Sara said. 'Kind of ruins the workaholic image.' She joked. 'I'll be alright as long as I've got a coffee cup in hand at all times.'

He glanced over at her once more, as if deciding if she really was up to working, before looking back at the road. 'Just don't puke at any crime scenes, will ya? I don't think Gris would look too favourably on that.'

'I don't get sick.' She muttered. 'I just get a hell of a headache.' She added, going back to kneading her temples.

Warrick pulled into the car park seven minutes later, and even Sara was beginning to think she was gonna break the record she was so proud of and get sick with a hangover. 'Remind me never to drive with you again.' She told him.

'Just when you're hungover, or in general?' Warrick asked.

They sat in the car for a few minutes, Sara desperate to ask him a question that had been gnawing at her since she woke up (the first time), but not knowing how to ask.

'Spit it out, Sara. I don't think you can say anything to shock me now.' Warrick said, a smile on his face.

'I…I was just wondering what, or whether, or…'

'I won't tell anyone.' Warrick told her, saving her from the babbling.

'You won't?' She asked hopefully, giving him such an endearing look Warrick had to laugh.

'I promise. Your secret is safe with me.'

Sara looked at him gratefully before her eyes narrowed slightly. 'At what price?'

'Oh, I'm sure you'll find someway to repay my discretion. I'll leave it up to you.' He said.

'You're enjoying this, aren't you?' Sara accused.

'Oh yeah.'

Everything looked normal when they walked into CSI. Sara didn't know what she was expecting, but she was still half afraid about what else she had done last night, and was dreading seeing the others. Warrick disappeared in the direction of the locker room, whilst Sara walked slowly to the break room, ready for a much needed coffee. She was distracted slightly by the sight of all the workmen in the blown up lab, remembering as if it was stuck on repeat the feel of the blast warm against her skin, the noise filling her ears making her head throb even now.

Nick was already sitting in the break room watching the late edition of the news. He greeted her normally enough, putting her at ease slightly. 'Have you seen Warrick yet? Grissom's gonna be here any moment.'

'Uh, no, I haven't.' Sara told him, pouring a strong cup of coffee. As if on cue, Warrick walked in, catching Sara's eye briefly with a look she couldn't decipher before he started teasing Nick about some football result.

Grissom arrived a minute later, handed out assignments, and Sara was beginning to relax. She and Nick had a suspicious death at a gym to investigate. They were just walking out, when Grissom called after her. 'Sara?'

She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart missing a beat. 'Uh, yeah?' She asked, turning around slowly.

'Was there something you wanted to talk to me about last night?'

Sara schooled her features into a surprised look. 'No, why?'

'I had a few missed calls from your cell. I left my phone here by accident.'

oh crap. And phew

Sara kept the surprised look as best as she could, as she shrugged. 'I didn't call you last night- I forgot to lock the keypad on my cell, it dialled a load of numbers by accident.' She quickly said, seeing Warrick smirk and quickly hide it out of the corner of her eye.

'Oh. Right.' Grissom said, obviously wondering whether to believe her as he said bye and started walking out.

Sara breathed a sigh of relief, making Nicky give her a strange look. 'I thought he had answered one of them- my cell bill would have been huge!' She babbled instantly, rushing past him as she felt her cheeks begin to burn.

It was the _last_ time she was going to ever ever drink. Again. And she didn't miss Warrick's amused look as he started following Griss.

She was never going to be able to look Warrick in the eye again.

Warrick walked in the break room at end of shift to find Nick alone, flicking through channels on the tv. 'Hey- how was your case?' He asked.

Nick flicked the switch on the tv as he turned to Warrick. 'Suspicious circs turned into an open and shut fight over the running machine.'

'No way.'

'Way- vics been on the machine for close to half an hour, and you know what people are like with those machines, gotta have the exercise, so the suspect grabs him by the back of the shirt, yanks him off. He hits his head on the handle, dies from sub-dueral haematoma. Guys been charged with manslaughter.'

Warrick laughed. 'Why do people insist on running on those machines when there's the open road and no time limit?'  he wondered out loud.

'Air conditioning.' Nick suggested.

'So, you up for breakfast?' Warrick asked.

'Can't, gotta get to the bank and pay my electricity bill before it gets cut off.' Nick said.

Warrick frowned.

'Apparently the bill got lost in the post. Or I accidentally put it somewhere and forgot about it.'

'Got ya. So where's Sara?'

Nick shook his head. 'Don't know- locker room?' He suggested. 'She's been weird all night.'

'Weird?'

'Like her head is somewhere completely different.'

In a pool of alcohol, maybe. 'Oh. Everyone has off nights.'

'Sure- well I've gotta go and save my air conditioning.' Nick said, sauntering out. 'See you later.'

'Later.' Warrick said after him. He thought about grabbing a coffee but as it looked like it had been there all shift he passed on it, and went to get his bag from the locker room.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped as he entered. Sara was sitting on the edge of the bench, leaning forward with her head in her hands, against her locker door. 'This is so not a good place to sleep.' Warrick told her sitting down next to her.

'Com-for-ta-ble.' Sara said, the word drawn out with a yawn.

'Yeah, but you'll be more comfortable at home in bed.' Warrick told her.

'Can't go home- no car.' Sara explained, her eyes still closed.

'Didn't you phone the impound?'

'No go.'

'No you didn't or they couldn't help you?'

'They couldn't help. No car.'

'Oh.' Warrick said, frowning slightly. 'Where on earth did you leave it, then?'

'Don't know. Can't remember, remember?'

'Come on.' Warrick said after a pause, getting to his feet and dragging her up to. 'Let's get you home.'

'Umm. Home.' Sara sighed. 'Let's go.' She said, pulling herself away from Warrick and rubbing at her eyes. Warrick frowned at her retreating back, wondering what had just happened to transform her so quickly.

'You wanna get breakfast?' Sara asked as they walked towards Warrick's car. 'I'm starving. Plus I owe you.'

'You owe me a lot more than breakfast.' Warrick said. 'But I'm willing to have it in instalments.' He said.

They drove to a small diner in the outskirts of town, well used by the CSI's and cops as they served good portion food and cheaply.

Warrick ordered his usual, eggs bacon sausage and beans. Sara ordered pancakes topped with maple syrup with a side of fried eggs easy over, and a portion of fries just to top it all off. Warrick watched bemused as she ate the lot, washed it down with ice tea, then watched him still finishing his.

'Hungry?' He asked.

'Not anymore.'

'Good.'

'Good.'

'Okay then.'

They looked at each other for a moment, before they both quickly looked away. 'We should get going- or you'll be carrying me to the car again.' Sara joked.

'Yeah. And you're not exactly light, Sidle.'

Sara hit him on the arm as they walked out of the diner.

The ride to Sara's house was quiet- a comfortable silence after all they'd had to talk about over the last few days. Sara could imagine that with some guys, i.e. Nick, there would still be awkwardness, unasked questions, wondering. Warrick was chilled, and Sara couldn't imagine him telling anyone what had happened, even though she could see him using it at every opportunity he could to get out of doing something he didn't want to. He didn't seem to want to know more, or to ask questions she didn't want to answer, he just was…there. Helping her even when he didn't have to. Sara never thought of him as much outside of a work colleague before, but then again, she hadn't really known him outside of work before.

They rounded the corner into Sara's street. It was a cul de sac off a larger street, quiet at anytime. The houses were some of the oldest in town, a few converted into apartments like Sara's, with off street parking outside.

As Warrick pulled up outside the house, both of them had their eyes on the driveway, and the shiny tahoe in the parking space.

'Well that solves that riddle.' Sara said with a laugh.

Warrick regarded her, then looked back at the car with a shake of his head. 'Well, at least you're a safe drunk.' He said thoughtfully.

'Now we just have to find my keys.' Sara added, opening the door, and getting out.

'We?' Warrick called somewhat belatedly, following her out. 'What's with the we?…Sara?'

He only got one response. And it sounded strangely like the laugh was aimed at him.

'Oh, you so didn't just laugh at me, Sidle.' He warned as he followed her up to her apartment.

There might be more. But only if you're good J


	4. you should NEVER listen to me when I'm d...

Drunken Innocence (part four)

A.N. well, here it is. Part four. Can you tell what it is yet?

He caught up with her at the front door, where she was stopped. 'Um, I forgot.' She told him, turning to face him.

'Forgot what?' He asked.

'I have no keys. I can't actually get into the house.' She explained, turning back to study the door as if she could will it open.

'Oh. Oh.' He said, understanding. 'Oh well, has your neighbour got a spare?'

'no.' She said shortly, turning back to him. 'Turn around.'

'Sorry?'

'Turn around.'

'Well you never asked that when you were stripping yesterday.' Warrick joked.

She gave him a look, but didn't comment. She had no memory of any of it, what was she meant to say? 'Just turn around.'

'I don't know why you're suddenly shy, Sara.' Warrick said conversationally as he obediently turned around studying the street beyond. There was only silence behind him, and as he was just wondering what on earth she was doing, there was a soft click, and as he turned around, the door swung open. 'How? Uh? How? Where on earth did you learn to do that?' He finally got out.

All Sara did was stoop, and pick up a set of keys on the doormat. 'Found them!' She said triumphantly.

Warrick shook his head at the absurdity of all of it. Then got back to the real question. 'Come on, Sidle, I want answers. Where did you learn to pick a lock?'

'It's a useful skill to have.' Sara said mysteriously. 'Drink?'

'Water please.' Warrick answered. 'Where did you get that skill?'

'I taught it to myself. It came in very useful as a child.' She trailed off, and Warrick saw something change in her expression that he couldn't identify before she turned round and walked off into the direction of the kitchen. 'Make yourself comfortable.' She called over her shoulder.

He wandered into the living area, and realised that whatever he thought Sara would live like, it wouldn't have been like this. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't obsessively neat, either. It looked…lived in. Papers were piled on the floor by the sofa, books were scattered around, a large bookcase holding the majority of them. Photos of family members and friends were scattered around on all available surfaces. This was the Sara no one at the lab knew about, knew even existed, really. The Sara she didn't let out very often. At work she was all about the case, working unbelievable hours, desperate for results. Warrick had had more of an insight into her character in the last few days than he had had in almost three years at the lab. He would never have guessed that she was a football fan, but she had momentos of various games she had been to see. She had a large, and surprisingly varied CD collection, and a state of the art sound system. There was work stuff, of course, but it was mixed in with other elements of her life.

She actually had a life, Warrick realised with somewhat of a jolt. Then felt bad because if he hadn't been here, he wouldn't have believed it.

'You can sit down you know.' Sara said from behind him.

He turned to her, feeling a slight brush at having been caught snooping.

'You're surprised.' She stated, setting a glass of water and one of OJ on the glass and steel coffee table.

'yeah.' Warrick admitted.

'About the state of it? It's usually a little tidier. Not much, but a little.'

'I thought it would be neat.' Warrick admitted. 'I've never seen you as unorganised.'

'I'm not, really.'

'You didn't know where your car was.' Warrick pointed out.

'I don't normally go out and get wasted. I was having a bad night.' She said, for a moment her eyes straying to the bandage still on her hand. She shook herself, reaching forward for the glass of OJ.

Warrick nodded towards the football game flags and pictures. 'Never pictured you as a football fan, either.'

'Lived near San Francisco. Hard not to be.'

'You play?'

'Badly. My last place of work, we used to do an annual game of touch football, cops versus the lab. We lost every year, but it was a laugh.' She told him.

Warrick nodded to some pictures on top of the bookcase. 'That your old crew?' He asked. They were a few group shots set in a lab.

Sara glanced over at it. 'Yep.'

'So why did you leave so abruptly? Didn't they have something to say about it?' Warrick wondered.

Sara shrugged. 'Because Grissom asked me to.' She said simply.

'You really like him, don't you?' Warrick asked quietly. The acute disappointment he felt as he asked this question shocked him slightly.

He was surprised at the shake of the head, the small smile. 'I used to.' She corrected.

'What changed?'

'I stopped looking to him for approval in everything. I…got a life. Or tried to.'

'It didn't go so well?'

'Well, I was Hank's other girl. Which I wasn't exactly aware of.'

'The paramedic guy? He was cheating on you?'

'Yeah. Remember the woman that drove into that coffee shop that he was in?' Warrick nodded. 'Hank was there with his girlfriend. I went round to interview her, and she had all these pictures of the two of them together.'

'Harsh.'

'Yeah.' Sara agreed. For a moment she was silent, thinking, then seemed to shrug it away. 'It didn't do a lot for my so called life.' She said rather mirthlessly.

They were silent for a moment. 'Do you remember anything about the other night?' Warrick finally asked, thinking he knew the answer already.

'No. I'm quite a forgetful drunk.' Sara said with a smile.

'You asked me if I like you.' Warrick told her.

'I did?'

'Yeah. You didn't think I did because of our…history.'

'Oh. I get a little too talkative when I'm wasted.'

'Or you were just voicing your real fears.' Warrick corrected. 'I know we didn't get the best start, but I thought we were getting on all right.'

'We still disagree.'

'We're meant to.'

Sara raised an eyebrow at this. 

'We've just got different styles. It makes working with you fun anyway.'

Warrick could have been imagining it but he thought he detected the slightest bit of red tinge to her cheeks.

'I think you doubt yourself too much. You're a great CSI, but that's not all you are to us.' He carried on. For some reason he felt he had to get this point across, had to make her understand this.

'I didn't mean to get all introspective.' Sara said. 'When I was drunk.' She added.

'Oh it wasn't the only thing we were talking about. I recall a rather eventful game of punch buggy.'

Sara joined him in laughter, and the moment, whatever it had been was broken. They sat in a comfortable silence, both surveying the flat. 'I think I've learned more about you in the last two days than I ever knew before.' Warrick finally said.

'How do you mean?' Sara asked carefully, afraid of more embarrassing tails.

'I never knew you drank. I never knew you smoked.'

'I don't, unless I'm drinking.' Sara corrected.

'I never knew you were a football fan, or once kissed Grissom, or lived near San Francisco, or…' he trailed off, catching himself when he realised what he was about to say.

'Or what?' Sara asked, knowing there was more.

Reluctantly, he carried on. 'I guess I never knew you outside of work. I never thought of your life outside of work.'

'I bet there's a lot I don't know about you, either.' Sara said to try and cover up her embarrassment.

Warrick shrugged, conceding the point. 'Maybe it's time we tried to rectify that.' He said softly.

For a moment Sara regarded him with that same serious look she had had when she was drunk. He almost squirmed under the gaze, till she looked away a weird little smile on her face. 'Maybe we should.'

A.N part two. I think that's it. the rest can be left to your imagination. I think you can guess where it goes…


	5. i dare you

What can I say? I crack under pressure…

The pub was rowdy, full of residents and tourists. The tourists because they didn't know better, the residents because whilst they wouldn't actually admit to liking it, but it's a bar and it serves alcohol, and there are worst places. Not much worst, but after a few drinks, everything starts looking good. Even the all out assault on red this bar had in the way of decoration.

Warrick didn't notice the décor. Didn't really notice the other patrons. He looked around only until his eyes caught sight of familiar brunette hair. He nodded at Harry, the bar tender he had never liked, but who at least remembered their usual, before winding through people in various stages of alcohol consumption to the usual table.

Sara looked up at him, and narrowed her eyes. 'You're late.'

Warrick wondered how he could be late to something that was arranged on the basis that neither were working that night, rather than any sort of formal arrangement, but shrugged it off. 'What you drinking?' He asked.

Sara studied the drink in front of her for a moment as if to try and ascertain what the hell was in the glass in front of her, before it finally came to her. 'Vodka tonic.'

Warrick looked up, caught Harry's eye, and signalled at Sara's drink, flashing two fingers at him. Harry nodded, turning to the drink dispenser. Warrick had never actually had a vodka tonic, but he'd try anything once…

They sat in silence, as was customary with these meetings, till Harry brought the new drinks, till they had clinked glasses and Sara had actually got a ghost of a smile to her lips. It was getting to be a regular habit, if they both had the night off, they met up at this pub, at this table, and drank the night into oblivion. Ever since Warrick had found Sara, completely off her head, one morning after the lab had been blown to smithereens, it had become a staple of their friendship. Warrick had learnt more about Sara in the few hours they spent in the bar than he had ever done in three years at the lab. Like the fact that she smoked. But only when she drank. That she had once snogged Grissom, and then had drowned her sorrows in tequila. One of his favourite was that she set her alarm so that she could be up to watch Little House on the Prairie every afternoon. He'd almost choked when he heard that. Death by laughter. Bet Al hadn't seen that one before.

Warrick near enough inhaled the drink in front of him, the only way he could stand the vodka. He turned to the barman, catching his eye after a few moments. 'Usual.' He said. Harry nodded, appearing in a few moments with a round of tequila slammers, a pint and a vodka redbull. Sara grinned as Harry walked off, pulling over a shot glass, and grabbing the salt pot. They worked in mirror image, licking the back of the hand, pouring on the salt, licking that, then downing the shot, sucking on the lemon desperately to stop the burning that felt like both their throats were on fire.

Their irregular drinking sessions had so far managed to escape the notice of the rest of the lab, who usually had an uncanny ability to spot any behaviour remotely like this and to spread it like wildfire, probably blowing it up into some big love affair instead. It wasn't like they were trying to keep it secret. It just never came up. They hardly even arranged it to begin with, just both turned up. It was just habit. A strange habit, maybe, but a friendly, comforting habit, that saw both of them turning up regardless.

It took a few drinks, but they were soon talking the night away. Their last case at work currently the subject, a murdered prostitute for which the woman's housemate had finally been arrested for. It had been unusually busy in the hallways around the Police department, namely because the suspect was Hot.

Sara though, was talking about Marsha, the suspect, and her uncanny ability to lie.

Warrick was finding it hard to concentrate on that aspect of the interview. 'Now she was one sexy lady.' He interrupted with a sigh.

Sara glared, then seemed to consider the response. 'You thought she was sexy?'

Warrick's answer was immediate. 'Hell yeah! Anyone could see she was sexy.'

Sara was still doubtful. 'You didn't think it was too much? All the hair, the make up. Like she was trying too hard?'

Warrick's answer held no doubt. 'Nope.'

Sara took a cigarette from the packet in front of her, having to concentrate pretty hard in her state to light it. She inhaled, blew smoke towards the ceiling, 'Anyway, her breasts were fake.' She dismissed.

'No way!' He instantly denied.

'Yes way. Only fake ones stand up like that.'

'What about, you know, bras and stuff.'

Sara rolled her eyes. 'She wasn't wearing a bra. You know, for a trained investigator, you're not very observant.'

Warrick sat in stunned silence for a moment. 'She didn't have a bra on?'

'Honey, no one could wear a bra under that top.'

The look went back to stunned, and a slight drool appeared in the corner of his mouth. His eyes fell to Sara's chest.

'Yes I'm wearing a bra.' Sara said, her tone huffy. 'Yes it's padded. Yes, I know I'm not a good advert for Wonderbra. Now can you quit staring?'

'I prefer natural.' Warrick said, his look finally shifting.

'Yes, that was what the drool was five seconds ago about Marsha.'

Warrick dismissed this with a wave of the hand. 'It's just a look. You've got to have substance, not just something to peer at. I mean, at least you've got a brain.'

Sara's eyes narrowed. 'Are you saying I'm not sexy?'

If Warrick had been slightly sober he would have changed the conversation. Then again, if he was even slightly sober he wouldn't have gotten into this conversation in the first place. 'You've got more substance. You're more than eye candy.'

'I could be sexy.' Sara told him, eyes narrowed.

Warning bells dampened in all the alcohol, Warrick carried on. 'Don't get me wrong, you're easy on the eye. But I can have a conversation with you.'

'But I could do sexy.' Sara insisted, not even wondering why they were having this conversation.

Warrick hesitated slightly. 'I just can't see it. You just don't have that…sexy edge.'

'You mean the triple F bra size pushed in your face.'

The drool was back. 'It's not just about the size of the chest.' He tried.

'You know, sexy's just appearing as a man's fantasy object. Anyone can do sexy if they find the right image.'

For someone that was seriously buzzed, he could still think pretty fast. 'Prove it.' Warrick challenged.

Sara narrowed her eyes at him 'Huh?'

'Prove it. If being sexy is so damn easy, the next time we do this, you do that.'

'Dress sexy?' Sara asked doubtfully.

Warrick shook his head. 'Be sexy.'

He thought for sure that Sara would refuse. Women's rights and all that. So he wasn't prepared for when he looked up to a pair of determined eyes and the words 'You're on. Who gets to judge?'

'Me.' Warrick answered as if that was perfectly obvious. 

Sara appeared to think this over. 'If you want to prove you're sexy, then it's me you've got to prove it to. And only I'm going to be able to measure that.' Warrick said.

Sara pondered this a moment longer before slowly nodding. 'But you better be fair.' She warned. 'If I stir you in parts long forgotten, then I win the bet.'

'If you stir me at all, I'll do all your paperwork for a week.'

'And my next house invader case.' Sara added. 

Warrick nodded. 'But if you don't, then you get my next missing pet case, and have to do all my paperwork for a week.'

Sara nodded.

Warrick let a slow smile come to his face. This was going to be great. He held up his drink, currently red bull and vodka, Sara mimicking the movement. They clinked glasses, each downing their drinks. Then they started giggling.


	6. i will never drink alcohol AGAIN

Part Six

(this and one more part, and then it's done. Promise!)

Bright sunlight intruded rudely on her slumber. Without opening her eyes she reached across, searching with her hand for something to cover her eyes with. She finally found a pillow, pulling it over her head, welcoming the darkness.

She couldn't get back to sleep though. The light had set off a pounding in her head, and as her mouth felt full of fur, and her eyes felt laden with cement, she quickly came to the conclusion that she had been out drinking. Again.

She sniffed, trying to guess whether she was at home or Warrick's. They usually got a cab from the bar, and sometimes she had even managed to get back to her house. She seemed to be safe today, she recognised her washing liquid smell on the pillow. Now if she could just get enough working neurons together she could open her eyes and confirm this.

With little idea of how long it took, she finally prised her eyes open, still hidden under the pillow to save them from the harsh reality of daylight. It had to be fairly late, if she was in her room, she only got the sun in the afternoon. Finally she realised that as much as she wanted just to stay where she was, she was going to have to use the bathroom in the near future or spoil her new cotton sheets completely.

Mustering up the courage to face herself in the mirror, she swung her legs over the side of bed, rolled, and just about managed to make it to her feet. Taking a moment to steady herself, she started across the room.

She avoided looking in the mirror, deciding quickly that that pleasure could wait till at least after she'd drowned herself in the shower for a while. After relieving herself, she sat on the edge of the bath tub, washing her teeth, reflecting on a scale of one to ten of hangover experiences this wasn't too bad. After all, she could walk. Which was always a good sign. She could even remember little bits of last night. Nothing important like how she'd got home, but she remembered Warrick being there. That was something, right?

She looked forward to the nights more than she would dare tell Warrick. After all, he treated them so casually; she got the impression if something better came along, he'd be off. Not that she felt used or anything. She just got the impression that she looked forward to them more than Warrick did. Warrick had turned out to be a good listener, a good talker, and generally a good friend. In the few hours she spent in the bar with him, she had got to know him far better than three years at the lab. Who would have thought, after the arguments they had used to have that they could sit down and enjoy a friendly drink together. Or three. Or ten.

After using all her hot water in the shower, she stepped out at least feeling half human. She bundled up in a bathrobe, quickly deciding that she had to have a coffee before dressing. She couldn't wait any longer. Her lounge and kitchen were open plan, the bedroom and bathroom down a short corridor coming out into the lounge. She could see the light blinking on her ansaphone and wondered whether Grissom had been trying to get hold of her. Her mobile had been safely turned off, as she now did every time she went to the bar just in case she got some crazy idea of calling someone again to offload in her drunken state. She walked over to the phone, about to press play when a voice floated across the room.

'Sidle, did you have to use up all the hot water?'

Sara jumped violently, spinning around, clamping her arms across her front to stop the bath robe flying open. 'Jeez. Warrick! What the hell are you doing here?' She cried.

Warrick looked a little disturbed by the outburst, although Sara could see the edge of his lip twitching as he tried hard not to smile. 'I…you told me I could sleep on the couch.' Warrick answered uncertainly, pointing out the couch where a neat pile of sheets now lay, as if to help her recall. 'Remember?' He added.

'Uh no?' Sara answered somewhat sarcastically. Her heart was still running ten to the dozen, and she knew she shouldn't be mad but she just hadn't been expecting him. If she had, she certainly wouldn't be standing there in a bathrobe.

Warrick looked around, clearly wondering what to do. He picked up a cup off the counter in front of him and offered it out to her. 'I made coffee.' He said.

For a moment, Sara just stood there, then gave up, laughed and stepped forward accepting the coffee gratefully. 'Thanks. Sorry I yelled. I just-'

'Forgot that you had told me to stay.' Warrick finished for her. 'I guessed.' He said dryly.

'Yeah, so…good night?' She asked, making him grin.

'Not bad. I didn't have to carry you to the cab, anyway.'

'Why is it, that you drink the same as me, and you can still walk?' Sara mused.

'I'm a man. We can hold our drink better.'

'Right.' Sara said, drawing the word out into several syllables. 'Well, at least I don't turn into a gibbering idiot.' She mused.

'I thought you didn't remember last night?'

'Oh, I remember enough.' Sara told him.

At that statement, for some reason, Warrick got an even brighter grin on his face. 'Ah, but do you?' He asked, almost rhetorically.

Alarming bells clanged in Sara's pounding head, as she tried in vain to think what Warrick could be referring to.

The grin on Warrick's face, if possible, had only grown bigger.

'What did I do this time?' She asked at last.

'Oh, that would be too easy.' Warrick told her. He leant back against the counter, folding his arms against his chest, regarding her carefully, a twinkle in his eyes.

For a moment, Sara reflected how comfortable he seemed to be in her kitchen, making himself at home. And cursed the fact that even after last night, and in last nights clothes he looked like normal. 'Could you at least give me a clue? Was this before or after the haemorrhage?'

'Before.'

'Come on Warrick…' Sara pleaded, not having the slightest clue of what Warrick could be referring to.

Warrick didn't budge. Literally or figuratively. Sara brought her free hand up to her forehead, massaging her temples in both a useless gesture of relieving the headache, and trying to search for any useful memories of last night.

She gave up, turned her back on Warrick, and stalked to the ansaphone. She pressed play, a recorded voice telling her that she had three new messages.

'Sara, honey.' Was all she needed of the first message to know it was her mother, and she quickly pressed the fast forward button. Her mom tended to ramble on about stuff Warrick didn't need to know.

'Sara, you've got to call me.' That message also got cut off pretty quickly, the quirky unmistakable voice of her oldest friend being cut dead in its prime. Warrick also didn't need to hear that one.

The third message, as she could have predicted, was Grissom. 'Uh, hi, Sara, it's Grissom. Look, if you get this message, we could do with a hand tonight. No…no urgency or anything. I can't get hold of Warrick either. Oh well. Call if you get this message. Or I'll see you tomorrow night. Whichever.'

Sara turned round, raising an eyebrow at Warrick. 'Think he'll be mad I didn't come in?' She asked, not expecting an answer really.

'Who Grissom? Mad? At you? Cause you're unavailable at the drop of a hat? He'll get over it.' Warrick said, with a slight grin. 'Guess I know what's on my ansaphone.' He added.

'I haven't even listened to my voicemail yet.' Sara said ruefully. Now that the messages were out of the way, she turned back to the problem at hand. 'Well, my cell was off so I couldn't have phoned anyone- I didn't call anyone did I?' The last bit was said with a slight hysterical inflection.

'No.' Warrick said laughing.

Well, how bad could it be? She hadn't phoned anyone. Which meant it was just between herself and Warrick. A thought suddenly came to her, but she instantly dismissed it. But it kept nagging at the back of her brain. What if they'd kissed or something? She felt her cheeks flame up at the thought. Would he really be standing there so casually if that was the case? Why did she always drink too much to remember the vital details of a night out?

Warrick had obviously decided to take pity on her as he stepped round the kitchen into the lounge, propping himself against one of the stools at the counter. 'It wasn't so much what you might have done, to what you agreed to do later.'

Agreed to do later? Sara, for some reason, suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was standing there in her bathrobe.

'I'm gonna…go get changed.' She announced suddenly, all but running up the corridor to her room, firmly closing the door behind her. The distinct sound of a Warrick chuckle followed her up the corridor.

She did get changed, and tried to reason with herself what she might have agreed to do. She thought about the bits she did remember, as she slowly changed into jeans and a skinny-t. She'd got there before Warrick. Which wasn't a big surprise. She'd probably accused him of being late. There had been drinking. A lot of drinking. And by the smell of her clothes, she'd been smoking again. Why was it that with all her good intentions, as soon as she had a drink in one hand, she needed to have a cigarette in the other? She hardly ever got the urge as she had used to do when she was sober.

So, no shocks there. They'd talked about work. And some discussion on music, probably argued about films, probably gossiped about the rest of the crew at CSI, probably invented some stupid drinking games. Argued about whether green or blue aftershock was the best. None of this helped her. Buying herself some time, she sorted out the clothes from last night into the clothes hamper, thinking about what they had discussed about work. Their recent case had been a dead prostitute, and Sara remembered complaining about the friend's ability to lie. And Warrick getting all soppy eyed over her.

The warning bell came back, softer now, but still there. Something about that conversation, something about Marsh being sexy. Sara personally thought that it was too much, too fake. Warrick obviously hadn't thought so. She remembered that uncharacteristic flare of jealousy at the look in Warrick's eye when he was thinking about her.

No! She berated herself. She didn't think of Warrick like that.

Okay, so something about their differing tastes in women. About what was sexy. She just couldn't see what had Warrick smiling about it.

There was only one way she was going to get answers. She stalked back into the lounge, the unsolved puzzle along with the hangover making her feel somewhat cranky. Warrick was sat on the sofa now, flicking through tv stations. He looked up at her, about to say something, but obviously thought better of it.

Sara sat down on the opposite arm, facing Warrick. 'We were having a discussion about that witness. The one you thought was sexy, and I thought was too much.' Sara told him.

Warrick helpfully nodded.

'And…' Sara prodded.

'And you had better ideas of what constituted sexy.' Warrick finally said.

Sara frowned. 'Why would I…' 

Warrick interrupted. 'You were drunk. Well, we both were. And we made a bet.' He had obviously had enough of watching her squirm.

'A bet?' Sara said, feeling a shiver of dread work it's way up her spine.

Warrick shut of the tv, and turned properly to her. 'Yes, a bet. If I won, you did all my paperwork for a week, and worked my next missing pet case.'

'And if I won…'

'I'd do your paperwork for a week, and work your next house invader case.'

'And what do I have to do to win the bet?' Sara asked, clearly dreading the answer.

'The next time we meet up, you have to be…sexy.'

The series of looks that run over Sara's face in two seconds was astounding. 'Be…sexy?' She finally asked.

'Yep. You have to prove that you can be sexy.' Warrick told her.

Sara's eyes were wide with disbelief. 'No way. We can't have shaken on that!'

'Oh, we sealed it- you even signed for it.' Warrick said, passing her a paper napkin. On it, clearly in her writing was a signed passage agreeing to the bet.

Sara groaned loudly. 'Why do I do this to myself?' She asked.

Warrick's answer was a chuckle. 'I can't wait Sidle. Have I told you how much I enjoy drinking with you?' He said, standing up. 'I've got to go. See you tonight.'

'But you can't…you can't expect me to do this!'

'A bets a bet.' Warrick said solemnly with a shrug as if that was the end of it. 'If you want to forfeit, I'll make sure I have enough paperwork to keep you busy.'

Sara looked at him disbelieving. 'Oh, you're so unfair! Taking advantage of me when I'm drunk.' She told him.

Warrick ignored her, walking out the front door with a smile lighting his face, hearing another hearty grown from Sara before he shut the door.

Maybe it was unfair. But what he wouldn't admit, ever, was that she could have won the bet just now. Seeing her in only a bathrobe had certainly fallen within the rules of the bet.

Not that he'd tell her that because he was looking forward to their next drinking session way too much.


	7. sexy isn't skin deep

Part Seven.

It's déjà vu all over again! But this really is the final part, I promise. Whoever might want more!

Sara sat at the kitchen counter, head in hands, contemplating the coffee sat in front of her. The sun was bright through the lounge window, lighting up the whole of the room. It was the start of another typically hot Las Vegas day, and she was meant to be going to bed. It was three weeks since she'd made that horrible bet with Warrick, and it had been plaguing her ever since. Warrick hadn't mentioned it aloud, but had taken to leaving men's mags around open at scantily clad women in sexy provocative poses. If she thought that she could murder him and get away with it, she would have done by now.

Ten years ago, she would have thought nothing of dressing to the nines, short top, shorter skirt, high heels, make up plastered on. College had been one party after another. The problem was that it was ten years ago. Since then she'd thrown herself into work, and had only recently really had any social life to speak of. It had suited her, until now, but now she had a week's paperwork riding on reclaiming her college days in some small way.

Of course, the thought that she could just forfeit had certainly entertained her more than once. But it wasn't just the fact that like any criminalist she didn't treasure the paperwork aspect of their job, and having to do double the amount was the stuff of nightmares. It was the principle of the matter, that she had made this bet. However drunk she was on that night. She would say she was never going to drink again, but all she wanted to do was get drunk, and get this bet over with. At least after this night it would be all over and she could get back to her relatively quiet life again.

The other thing that was bothering her was the fact that this bet was bothering her so much. She would never admit it aloud, but she wanted to prove to Warrick that she wasn't just a workaholic colleague, that she could dress up nice, and, gulp, even be slightly feminine. She wanted to show Warrick that she was a woman, as stupid as that sounded.

She had pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to think too much about why she wanted Warrick to consider her in any other way than as a colleague. Whatever slight feelings she might have developed for Warrick were never gonna be reciprocated, so there was no point in wondering about them.

She finally picked up her coffee cup, drained the last of the coffee, and put the cup in the sink. It was time to get some sleep before having to go shopping to find something remotely nice looking. She groaned as she changed into her sleep gear, and slumped face down onto her bed.

Tonight was not going to be fun.

She was up again at midday, unable to sleep. She kept having weird dreams that she had shown up at the bar in some frilly underwear and high heel shoes, trying to strike a sexy pose, and then Warrick had turned round, laughed at her, and walked out.

The dream was clearly an omen, telling her not to even try this. That she should just go to the bar, in her normal clothes, get plastered before Warrick showed up, and then have absolutely no idea what Warrick was talking about. The idea cheered her up until she remembered that she only had no memory after the event, not whilst she was drinking.

She quickly showered and changed, before reluctantly gathering all her vital items of equipment; cell, pager, keys, money, credit card, into her purse and hitting the shops, deciding that she could have an outfit in under an hour, and be home to have a nap before she had to start getting ready.

That was the idea anyway.

All her usual shops had nothing that could be even slightly mistaken as sexy. She knew she was going to have to search somewhere else, but had little idea of where. She went into a few boutiques, but found all the shop assistants a little too snobby, and the prices way too steep.

She was beginning to think that the search was hopeless and she should fain a coma or something to get out of it, when she stumbled upon a tiny boutique in a back street on the way back to her car. It was called Stripes, the front of the store painted in black and white stripes to match the name. With nothing to lose, and knowing Warrick probably wouldn't believe the coma story, she reluctantly walked in. The store was very quiet and peaceful, minimal stock laid out in the tiny front room. The only shop assistant looked up and smiled warmly at her. Sara browsed for a few moments, and even if she had no idea what to wear to make her look sexy, she could at least imagine herself in some of these clothes.

'Hi, can I help you?' The shop assistant asked.

Sara went to say her usual no, thank you, but stopped. The shop assistant seemed friendly, and maybe she could help. She had to know more than Sara did, anyway.

'I'm looking for an outfit to wear on a night out.'

'Ah.' The understanding look on the shop assistant's face was followed by 'Big date?'

'No!' Sara exclaimed. 'No.' She added more softly seeing the slightly startled look on the shop keepers face. 'Just a big night out. I want to look…good.' She finally came up with.

The smile on the shopkeepers face told its own story of disbelief but she nodded. 'Right. How dressy is this place you're going to?'

'Oh, not exactly dressy, as such.' Sara said, wondering how she could explain.

The shopkeeper came up with her own explanation. 'You just want to feel good.'

'Yeah.' Sara said. 'Something like that.'

For a moment, the shopkeeper looked her up and down, making Sara consciously aware of the fact she'd thrown on her tattiest jeans, and just a plain white t-shirt. 'What do you feel are your best features?' She asked.

'Uh…I don't know.'

'When you want to look good, you have to feel comfortable, so pick what you like best, and emphasise it.' Erin, as the name badge announced, said.

'Ok…my legs, maybe?'

'That's a start.' Erin encouraged. 'Ok, long legs, want to emphasise that. How about this?' She rummaged at a rack of clothes, before finally picking out a skirt. It was black, with detail sewn in around the waist band and down one side. The bottom was slashed so that on one side it started just above her knee, and on the other fell to half way down her calf.

Before Sara could give her verdict, Erin had pulled out a black high neck top that fell loosely at the bottom to a waistband. Cut into the top at the front was a diamond, and as the shop assistant turned the top around, Sara saw that it was backless, joined at the bottom and top in a tie.

Sara didn't have any particular hang-ups with her body, but hadn't shown off that much flesh in public since her college days. Erin must have seen her look, because she suggested trying the combo on, seeing how it felt.

It took Sara five minutes to muster up the courage to show Erin the effect. Erin whistled when she saw Sara, and even Sara had to admit, the outfit at least made her feel feminine. Before she could turn to go back into the changing area, the door to the shop opened and a short blond woman walked in.

'Sara!' Catherine exclaimed in surprise when she saw her.

Sara couldn't say anything, feeling much like a deer caught in headlights.

'Woah, looking good girl. Hot date?'

Sara quickly found her voice. 'No!'

Catherine and Erin exchanged disbelieving looks. 'Well, whatever it's for, it looks good on you.' Catherine told her.

Sara didn't reply, just stalked back to get changed, wondering how bad her luck had to be, to be found by Catherine of all people. Gee, wonder what the gossip was going to be at the lab when she returned the following night. She did however, take the clothes up to the counter and pay for them, deciding it was better than nothing, and at this point she would have taken anything slightly good looking.

She thanked Erin, and was about to say goodbye to Catherine, who had better ideas, and walked out with her. 'I know this great shoe store just around the corner.' Catherine said. Sara couldn't think of a good enough excuse to split, and reluctantly followed Catherine.

'So, what is all this in aid of?' Catherine asked as they walked.

'Just a night out.' Sara said vaguely.

Catherine glanced at her but didn't comment. 

Sara rejected almost all of the shoes Catherine suggested, namely because she never managed to walk in three inch heels. She finally settled on some strappy kitten heel sandals, paying for them quickly, glad to be finished.

'Thanks Cath, you've been a big help.' Sara said with a bright smile, 'I really have to go now.'

Catherine looked at her, and for a moment, Sara felt like a suspect that Catherine was sizing up. She just about forced herself not to squirm under the gaze. She knew that Catherine was going to do everything in her power to find out what Sara was up to.

There was nothing Sara could do about that now, and no reason for Catherine to ever find out. She certainly wasn't going to say anything, and Warrick wasn't about to admit that he spent nights off with her, was he? Catherine reluctantly said goodbye, adding that she'd try and keep Grissom from calling her.

Sara smiled her thanks, although getting called in by Grissom had to be a valid excuse to void the bet. Or to at least postpone it. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier?

With the outfit brought, Sara at least managed a few more hours of sleep without the nightmares she'd had before.

That night she shaved in all the necessary places, applied make up more carefully than she had ever done in her life, straightened her hair with the proper ceramic straighteners she'd had for a year and never used. She dressed in the new clothes, remembering at the last minute to remove the label. For once in her life, Sara was running late, and when the cab finally managed to pick her up she was so hyped she almost forgot to bring her purse.

She was hoping to get there before Warrick, as she normally did, but on that day, he was already there, sitting in the corner, two drinks all ready. She slipped in, blending towards the back in a group of office workers, as he glanced up and to the door. Sara could guess why Warrick was suddenly early. He was certainly eager.

Sara was about to walk up to him, see if smiling could be constituted as sexy, when a better plan formed in her mind. Grinning to herself, she slipped round the back of the room, till Warrick had his back to her.

Warrick glanced up at the door once again, before taking a sip of his drink. He knew he was early, for him anyway, but for once, Sara was actually late. What could he say, he had been looking forward to this evening for so long. To mark the occasion, he'd even made a bit of an effort. Black trousers, a long sleeve deep purple vest, open at the neck. He didn't want to look out of place with Sara.

That was, if she showed up. It wasn't the first time that he had wondered if she would come, or if she would try and get out of it somehow. He had been expecting a phone call all day saying that a case had come in, or she was working on her night off for some reason. It wouldn't have been that uncommon for her, after all.

But no call had come, and earlier than usual, he'd made his way to the bar, excitement at what the evening would be. He just hoped it was a skirt. He'd heard about Sara in a skirt when she'd gone undercover for the FBI, but couldn't quite believe it himself.

He was just draining the dregs of his drink when two warm hands were placed over his eye, and a voice whispered in his ear. 'Guess who?'

The voice didn't sound anything like Sara's at first, and Warrick wondered if some old friend or other had seen him in the bar and decided to come over and surprise him.

'Come on, you've got to guess.' The voice teased playfully, and Warrick decided it was Sara, it just didn't sound like the Sara he knew from work.

'Um, Sara?' He asked, playing along.

'Good guess.' She said. 'Now close your eyes.' She instructed. The soft purr to her voice made him shiver slightly, and he did as instructed. One hand left his eyes and gently ran down his cheek, his skin feeling hot whether it was in contact. Fingers running softly over his chin and down to the neck of his shirt. For a moment, they paused, skin against skin, until they carried on descending, running ever so gently down the front of his shirt. For a split second, Warrick wondered where the hand was going to, but then decided he didn't really care right now, and carried on enjoying the warm feeling spreading in his chest. The hand came to rest at his abdomen, and he found he'd been so entranced with that one hand's movement, he hadn't realised the other had also left his eyes. He wondered what had happened to it, until he felt a light brushing over his shoulders, and he felt Sara cross round to his front. He heard a scrape as the table was pushed back slightly, and then Sara softly straddled his lap.

They were in the middle of a crowded bar, but Warrick barely noticed. All Warrick was aware of, all he wanted to be aware of, was where Sara was in relation to his own body, and the frustrations of not being able to see her.

He felt a tickle against his right cheek as she leant her head next to his. 'Keep your eyes closed.' She whispered.

'But I want to see.' He whispered back, even though he hadn't meant to whisper.

'You'll get to see.' She promised. 'But the bet wasn't on seeing. I had to be sexy, I had to move you.' She brought both hands to the side of his face, gently stroking with long soft fingers. 'You never said it had to be purely on what I was wearing.'

'No.' He had to agree.

For a moment, all he was aware of was the slight tingling of air against his ear lobe every time she breathed. Such attention on his earlobe suddenly made it feel hot and red, and he wondered if Sara could tell he was beginning to blush.

'See, this is punishment. For making bets with me when I can't remember.' Sara whispered, her fingers spreading across his cheeks, brushing slightly into his hair.

For some reason, his breathing wasn't all that steady at the moment. 'Somehow, I don't think this is punishment.' He managed to get out.

This seemed to phase her for a moment, as he felt her sit back, immediately missing the contact. He reached out, deciding he could get in on this act. His hands settled at her sides, stopping her from going anywhere. A silky feel under his fingers was his only clue to what she was wearing. His hands had their own adventure, moving up the silky material, his fingertips suddenly realising that whilst there was silky material at the front, there was bare skin at the back. He followed the line of the top up to her arms, finding her face, briefly skimming her chin as they settled on her cheeks. 

Unbeknownst to him, Sara's eyes had also closed, the touch of his fingers scorching her skin where the contact came and went. His thumb found her lips, tracing them, feeling the moisture of lipstick.

For Sara, she had stopped thinking, as soon as her plan had crashed and burned. She was hoping that she could just laugh it all off, try and make him feel uncomfortable, then get on with the drinking. But he'd responded in a way she hadn't expected, hadn't planned for. So while his fingers did their soft journey up her sides, she had sat frozen, unable to think.

Until now. Because suddenly it wasn't his fingers on her lips. He'd gently moved forward, so that more of his body was in contact with hers. Keeping his hands on her face, his lips had somehow found hers, and for a split second made contact.

The fleeting touch left her wanting so much more, and without bothering to open her eyes, she leaned forward, pressing back into him, finding his lips again, receiving as much pressure back from him as she was using.

The kiss was like nothing he'd felt before. Even the first one, when he'd been unsure how she would respond, the amount of feeling, of longing it left afterward took his breath away. But the one thing he'd feared, that she would flee, didn't happen, and she'd kissed him back.

He'd cheated on this one, and opened his eyes; so that he could look at her face, see her closed eyelids, soft smooth hair. He didn't care much what she was wearing. He didn't need to see. Because she had something far better than just being sexy. She was beautiful. And he would have done a year's paperwork to get to enjoy this moment.

As she gently broke away, she opened her eyes, holding his look steady, passion dancing in them like fire. And a round of applause broke out in the bar that made them both blush.

'I think you won the bet.' Warrick murmured to her.

'I know.' Sara murmured back with a wide smile on her face.


End file.
